Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

EDEN

Daddy’s fit to kill me for blasting my radio, but I was desperate to get him to look up. I was in the bathroom when Dad called out that we had company, and I know what that means by now.

According to Dad, we live in a place that rivals what Mad Max was living around. I still find it hard to believe it’s that bad if my grammy and aunt won’t leave it.

The hardest part is, Dad has all these plans for me to go off to college next year—in an area he approves of, naturally. And while I do want to see the world, I have no interest in rushing off to college. I don’t have a solid plan yet, but I’ve been talking it over with my aunt long enough to come up with something he’ll agree to.

A year of online college, while I find a home-based job to save up some money. Then, I’d buy a flight to Europe and a train pass to see all the countries I’ve read about for years.

There’s just no part of my plan that doesn’t end in Dad telling me I’m hopelessly na?ve. Which is, technically, his own fault, but now I have to change my European plans because I finally saw him .

“Eden!” Dad bellows once he’s back inside and the blue Silverado is nearly back to the road. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I needed to see his face,” I tell him.

“Enough.” Dad sighs, frustrated that I won’t tell him any more about the man I’ve dreamed of since I was ten. That night he was shot, and I woke up screaming, feeling as though the bullet had gone through me.

I’d had other odd dreams before. Most came while I was still awake, and none were nearly as strong as that one. Not only was I seeing someone I had never met, but I could feel every ounce of physical and emotional pain that he was experiencing.

It was hours before my dad was able to calm me down, and in the weeks afterward, my questions were unceasing.

“Was Momma like me? Is Aunt Kat like me?” I asked Dad on one of those days, when I knew my mom had been on his mind.

“I don’t know exactly, sweetie,” he had said, reaching out a hand to pull me onto his lap. “Your mom sure had a knack for knowing what I was thinking, but if it extended to what her family was feeling, Anna never said a word. And I don’t want to invade your aunt’s privacy.”

“You said Momma was like sunshine …”

“Sunshine, and air, and water. It was like I never knew how badly I needed all of them until I met her.” He smiled and I could feel his heart warm up again.

The love he felt for mom has always felt like a living thing, another entity residing in this big old house with us. Certainly nothing scary, just constant and familiar.

And today, I understand how Momma felt, that day she finally saw Dad in the flesh—not just in her dreams. Today, I got the barest glance of the man who was made for me. And Lord, does he look like a work in progress, I sigh to myself.

Now that I’ve found him, I have to get Dad talking about him. “Who was that anyway? I can’t remember the last time a stranger stopped by.”

“I’ve mentioned his family before, the Callens. They’re the bottom feeders that control most of Parkdale. The whole county, really,” he answers me, and I walk past him to look for snacks in the kitchen, hoping that he won’t notice how pale my face has gotten.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a feeling the man I’d been dreaming about for years wasn’t an angel—and today—his mohawk, tattoos, and posture backed that up. But that he’s a hardened criminal? Whoa!

“Then why’d you bring him back to your shed?” I ask next and regret it almost instantly.

“To distract him from you blasting your stereo! And it turns out, I may be leasing garage space from him.”

“In Parkdale?” I nearly screech. If even a fraction of the stories I’ve heard about what goes on there are true, he could be in serious trouble. “And from a Callen?”

“Trust me, I’ll have your aunt go over the contract with a fine-tooth comb before I sign it. I can’t quite figure out what Butch’s game is, and even though his mama raised him, I can’t imagine he’s much different from his father.” Dad lets out a loud sigh and sits down at our raggedy kitchen table. “Grab me a beer, will ya?”

“Day drinking, huh?” I laugh as I put the lemonade pitcher back and grab him a beer.

“Do I even want to know where you heard that?”

“It’s a song, and Grammy likes to spike her lemonade. They’re yummy.” I answer, following that up with a half-truth and a wink. “Or so she says.”

“Uh huh,” Dad says before letting out a loud sigh. “Look, I know I’ve pretty much ruined your life by keeping you so isolated. If you want to try a beer, go grab one and we’ll sit on the porch.”

My eyes nearly bug out of my head.

“I’m serious, or just pick a night and bring us both one. I’m not going to be a fucking hypocrite—I do think life should be lived honorably. But by your age, I’d been drinking with friends for well over a year. It ain’t right. I’m not saying it is, just, there’s a lot less privacy and a lot more access to meth and other shit nowadays. I don’t want that life for you and won’t ever apologize for isolating you from that.”

“Thank you,” I say after I take the popcorn out of the microwave. “Maybe another time, but you kind of just freaked me out with that offer.”

“Gimme some of that,” he says, nodding to the bag and changing the subject.

The coming month is beyond frustrating. I now know who the man I’ve been dreaming about is, but I’m no closer to getting to know anything about Jamie.